


Heartburn

by KurooKat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, I love my volleyball children, M/M, believe me, but it's good pain, slight pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KurooKat/pseuds/KurooKat
Summary: It was a common thing for people to feel an unmistakable burning sensation – right over their heart – when they met their soulmate. No one knew why, that was something only the universe could explain. Of course, the slight pain would dissipate after a few moments, but the initial shock of it was a bit earth shaking. What should be a beautiful, magic moment was somehow turned into a bunch of bodies on the sidewalk with faces laced in anguish. It was more amusing than sweet, really.





	Heartburn

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me one day and it wouldn't stop wiggling around in my brain until I finally wrote it. I neglected my synthesis paper for this, but my volleyball children are more important than uni. 
> 
> Enjoy!

             “You better send me that picture Mattsun! I look perfect, so I need to post it right now!” A tall, brunette boy by the name of Oikawa Tooru slung his arm over one of his best friends’ shoulders. He was admiring the selfie that he and his other friends – Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma, and the previously mentioned friend, Matsukawa Issei – had just taken. The usual smile was plastered onto Oikawa’s face as he held up two fingers in a peace sign while Kenma had his face in his DS, Matsukawa looked as bored as ever, and Bokuto was in the middle of his own cheesy grin. It fit their personalities well.

               Matsukawa leisurely tapped away at the screen of his phone, plugging in what he _thought_ was Oikawa’s number. However, when the aforementioned male just started whining about how he hadn’t yet received the image, Matsukawa squinted at his own screen. _Oops._

               The last two numbers of Oikawa’s phone number had been typed in wrong, meaning that some poor soul out there had to look at their dorky faces. Tragic, really. He quickly wrote _sorry, wrong number_ before sending the picture to the proper person. Oikawa’s squeals of joy confirmed it.  

               The group continued to walk down the street, on their way to a ramen shop not far from their university to grab lunch. The sun was high in the sky, shining warm light down on them. Despite the pleasant weather, Matsukawa was suffering as he forced to listen to Bokuto and Oikawa argue about something trivial. The two were like best friends, but they were both so lively that sometimes it was only natural for them to clash. Matsukawa felt his phone vibrate in his pocket once, and then a second time, before it silenced. When he unlocked the screen, he was met with a picture from the accidental number, and one quite similar to what he had sent minutes before. Four boys, who appeared to be around the same age, were staring back at him, the words below reading; _Double date?_

“Hey, Matsukawa!” Suddenly there were big golden eyes dancing in front of his face. “I’m hungry, why are you just standing here with your mouth open?” But before he could object any further, Bokuto was looking over the black-haired man’s shoulder at the phone, and his mouth also dropped. “Whaat, Oikawa this one’s prettier than you!”

               “Bokuto, I’m offended! What on earth are you – Oh my God, _how?”_ Oikawa had snatched Matsukawa’s phone again, brining it inches from his face to inspect one of the black-haired men more closely. “We’re doing it,” was all he said before tapping away at the phone, giving the owner their location as a way of accepting the offer.

               “What if I don’t want to?” Came the voice of the shortest boy in the group. Kenma often wondered how the hell these people came to be his friends. Right now, was one of those times. He could often handle Matsukawa, because the latter was really just a tired boy whose choice in humor was questionable, but at least he wasn’t as overwhelming as the other two.

               Oikawa shot Kenma a smile laced with evil that just screamed _you don’t have a choice_. “Oh, come on now Ken-chan, maybe you’ll meet your soulmate!” The tone of his voice was sweeter than Kenma knew it should have been.

               Shoving his nose back in his game, Kenma sighed and rolled his eyes. “You just want to meet the pretty one.”

 

* * *

 

 

               The group of four stood outside of the ramen shop, patiently (or impatiently in the case of Bokuto who couldn’t stop bouncing up and down with excitement) waiting for their apparent dates. Kenma was still less than interested, Oikawa was still obsessed with how beautiful the one had been, and Matsukawa was still just along for the adventure.

               “Where are they, we better not get stood up!” Oikawa flipped a few strands of hair out of his face, huffing as he began to grow tired of waiting (even if it had only been a few minutes). “Wait is that them?” He suddenly perked up as another group of guys came into view further down the sidewalk.

               As the newcomers grew closer, something began to wash over them all, and it wasn’t necessarily a pleasant something. “Uh, guys why do I suddenly feel very warm? I don’t think it’s just the sun either. Am I about to die?” Bokuto was distressed, to say the least, words spewing from his lips in a frenzy.

               Almost as if they had practiced it, the other three clutched their hands to their chests in synchrony, gasping as the sudden burn they were feeling. “Shit, you can’t be serious.” Kenma slowly plopped onto the ground, leaving the game he had been playing in his lap, and practically curling into a ball to will the sensation to stop. “Goddammit Oikawa.”

               “I swear I was just kidding when I said we could find our soulmates! I didn’t ask for this pain, oh my gosh make it stoop!” Oikawa wailed, clearly the most dramatic of them all. But even Matsukawa, whose facial expressions were hard to decipher, looked like his life had been one big regret.

               It was a common thing for people to feel an unmistakable burning sensation – right over their heart – when they met their soulmate. No one knew why, that was something only the universe could explain. Of course, the slight pain would dissipate after a few moments, but the initial shock of it was a bit earth shaking. What should be a beautiful, magic moment was somehow turned into a bunch of bodies on the sidewalk with faces laced in anguish. It was more amusing than sweet, really.

               If anyone looked a few feet down concrete, they’d see the same thing happening to another group of men. It took a few moments longer than anticipated, but they eventually made it so all eight were face to face. The one with ridiculous black-hair (not the same black-hair as the “pretty one”) was the first to actually speak through the discomfort he was feeling.

               “I ask for a double date as a joke, and what do I get in return?” He questioned, to no one in particular, as everyone else was still overcoming their shock.

               “Pain. We got pain.” The one with light brown – so light brown in fact that it looked almost _pink_ \- hair deadpanned. Matsukawa was the first to get over his potential heart attack as he started snickering at the comment, making the other smirk. “Hanamaki Takahiro,” The boy held out his hand, partly in a friendly handshake and partly to lift Matsukawa off the ground.

               “Matsukawa Issei,” he replied, taking the hand with his own smug look on his face. He took a moment to appreciate just how attractive Hanamaki was with that smile and his kind of dorky hair. “You guys fight over the others, I call dibs on pinky.”

               The others were getting over their own soulmate pains now, just in time for Oikawa to start sputtering senselessly, hands flying to his hair to fix the disheveled mess it had become in all of this drama. “You can’t just call _dibs_ on a _soulmate_ Mattsun!” He was flailing his hands wildly as he spoke, and the newcomers were staring. “Wait, I need to call dibs on the pretty one!”

               “Whaaaat, that’s no fair, I saw the pretty one first!” Bokuto joined in the newfound chaos.

               A few feet away, one black-haired man looked at another with a knowing look. “Akaashi, I’m gonna guess _you’re_ the pretty one,” he mumbled. Then louder, “I’m pretty, too, aren’t I? Why does everyone always fawn over Akaashi and not me? Life is unfair.”

               “Probably because your hair makes you look like you just woke up.” The quiet but pointed voice of Kenma spoke up from the concrete, eyes momentarily glancing up at the other male. Kuroo thought the yellow eyes might make his chest implode all over again.

               The pretty one, now known as Akaashi, drug a hand through his slightly messy hair. “I didn’t sign up for this, Kuroo.” His whole life had been people telling him he was pretty, and as flattering as it was, he definitely did not want these two strangers fighting over him.

               “Yeah, I’m with you on this one.” The one man who had yet to speak finally managed some words. He had dark, spiky hair, and a bad case of resting bitch face.

               “Too bad, Iwaizumi. You felt the pain, too, so I have to be responsible and not let you ditch your soulmate. Thank me later.” Mr. bedhead simply grinned over at his friend before turning his attention back to the others. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.”

               “Yeah, yeah, I don’t care about you, I just wanna know why the fuck Akaashi is so _pretty dammit._ ” Oikawa was quickly standing right next to the mentioned boy, peering into the greyish eyes with his own chocolaty brown ones.

               He stepped too close though, got a little to touchy, and suddenly Bokuto was letting out a loud, high-pitched whine. They all snapped their heads to the side and saw the man with wild black and grey hair once again clutching his chest, but this time he seemed to be in significantly more pain than previously. “It, ah, hurts,” he ground out, bending over and biting down on his lower lip to try holding in his cries. “Not burning, more like stabbing.” Earlier he may have just been acting a little dramatic, but now it was apparent that he was serious.

               Kuroo promptly pulled the tall brunette off of Akaashi – which he was extremely thankful for – and they all watched in stunned silence as Bokuto almost immediately lost all signs of being in crippling pain. Then a wide smile split out across his face, swallowing up his golden eyes as a cheer rippled from his throat. “Hey, hey, hey! It looks like I win, Oikawa!”

               “What the hell just happened? Explain yourself, owl boy.” Oikawa crossed his arms and gave Bokuto a look that demanded answers. Answers to questions like _why are you sabotaging my love life?_ And _how on earth did you even make that noise to begin with?_

               At this point, Bokuto was too busy practically _hooting_ over his apparent victory to pay his friend any mind, so Oikawa glanced at the others for help. “I’m fairly certain that once you’ve met your soulmate, any form of intimate contact you have with another person that isn’t strictly platonic sends violent pain through your other half’s heart.” Akaashi was the one to provide them all with the answer, even though some (like Matsukawa and Kenma) already knew that. They just liked to watch Oikawa in distress occasionally, and honestly who could blame them for that?

               So, there was the proof. Oikawa had gotten too into Akaashi’s personal space when he’d wrapped an arm around his waist, and it set off Bokuto. Now it was the owl-haired boy’s turn to throw his arms around Akaashi in a hug, lifting him off the ground and squishing him tightly. Words of how happy he was were flowing from his lips, and if you paid close enough attention you could see the redness creeping up the pretty boy’s neck to his cheeks.

               “Okay, that’s disgustingly sweet and all, but shouldn’t we know who got stuck with _you_ now, too?” Kuroo said, attention directed to Oikawa. “If he got stabbed,” he tossed a finger in Bokuto’s direction, “then someone else should have gotten stabbed, too.”

               After realizing that Kuroo had to be right, Oikawa began looking around desperately between the others. “Makki, it wasn’t you, was it?” He had already created a nickname for the pink-haired boy.

               At the claim, Matsukawa faked a look of offense. “Hey, you can’t just steal my soulmate, you know.”

               “But how do you _know?_ You haven’t tested it, all you did was call dibs!”

               Hanamaki and Matsukawa gave each other a look that may have seemed innocent, but somehow both of them knew it was anything but that. They simultaneously nodded in agreement, and then Makki’s hands were around Mattsun’s neck, and they were very eagerly kissing each other in the middle of the sidewalk. It was as if they had done this a countless of number of times, the two fitting together perfectly.

               “Ahh, alright, alright, I get it! You can stop making out now!” Oikawa huffed, clearly unhappy with his current predicament. The other two pulled back with a pair of shit-eating grins on their faces.

               Kuroo had a realization. This whole time, Iwaizumi had been way too quiet. When Kuroo shot him a glance, his friend was simply staring intensely at the concrete, unwilling to make eye contact with any of them (not that most were paying attention at this point anyway). Kuroo knew in an instant that it was Iwaizumi who had felt the pang, but he was stubborn and valued his dignity too much to let out the same sort of sound that Bokuto had. “Oikawa, I’d like you to meet Iwaizumi Hajime,” He smirked knowingly before tossing the taller man into the other.

               Iwaizumi tore his eyes from the sidewalk in time to catch Oikawa, saving the latter from a potential broken nose or busted teeth. Upon colliding with the strong chest, Oikawa took a moment to finally analyze the features of the prickly-haired boy. He noticed, finally, that Iwaizumi was actually rather attractive. Sure, it wasn’t in the same _pretty_ way that Akaashi was, but Oikawa thought just maybe it was better.

 _Holy shit, look at his arms_. Nothing was stopping Oikawa from staring now. He was completely wrapped up in the one that he had just minutes ago neglected entirely, running his hands up and down the muscles. Iwaizumi tried to fight the red that threatened to bloom over his face, but it was useless, and Oikawa was overwhelmed by the feelings he suddenly had for the grumpy looking male. _Forgive me, universe, for not realizing how blessed I am._

               “Poor guy, doesn’t even know how horrific his life is about to become,” Matsukawa laughed as he watched Oikawa cling to his newfound soulmate while the other tried to pry him off.

               “If anyone can handle that, it’s Iwaizumi. He’s practically our mother.” Kuroo was admiring the scene as well. He knew Iwaizumi could use some love in his life, or at least it would be amusing from his point of view.

               Then Hanamaki practically snorted at his own train of thought. “He may be a mom, but I bet Oikawa calls him daddy.” And just like that, Makki and Mattsun were caught up in another bout of sharing jokes only they thought were funny, and holding onto each other as laughter shook their bodies.

               _So that leaves two of us_ , Kuroo looked over at the small boy who had barely spoken a word since their arrival. The only time his voice had been heard was when he mocked Kuroo’s hair, and he wasn’t about the forget the yellow eyes that had looked up at him. He could tell he wasn’t the same as his friends, and that it probably wouldn’t go well if he was as forward about the whole situation as they were. So, instead, Kuroo opted for sitting down on the ground next to the half-blonde, peering at the game he was currently playing.

               Kuroo waited until the screen changed to declare that the level had been passed before he spoke. “Sorry to disappoint, but it looks like you get ‘the one who looks like he just got up,” he smiled down at the smaller male. It wasn’t his usual smile that meant he was up to no good, it was a soft genuine one that almost seemed out of place on his face, but there it was.

               Once again, yellow eyes were on him, and Kuroo felt as if they could see straight through his entire being. “I’m Kenma,” was all he said at first, before flicking his gaze away again. “Also, I didn’t say it was bad.” He attempted to hide his face behind strands of blonde, but Kuroo witnessed the small smile before he was successful.

               “Yeah well,” Kuroo lifted his arm to tuck the locks behind Kenma’s ear, fingers lightly brushing his skin, “yours isn’t half-bad either.” The faintest touch of pink could be seen on the younger boy’s cheeks, his attempts to hide it now ruined by Kuroo’s gesture.

               “You’re embarrassing,” Kenma mumbled quietly, even as he scooted closer to rest his head on Kuroo’s shoulder while starting up the next level. He would probably never admit it out loud, but Kenma had been hoping for this outcome from the moment the other group of males had walked up that sidewalk. He had been drawn to Kuroo and his long legs and his messy bed head and the look on his face that was just a little devilish. He felt a strong arm snake its way around his small frame, holding him a little closer to the larger. Yes, he could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

              

               Soulmates are a funny thing if you think about it. Two souls, unknown to each other, but destined to be found anyway. And not just to be found, that would be too simple. They’re destined to be _together_. To laugh, and to share, and to _love_. What a ridiculous situation it was. None of them had really anticipated their days ending like this, but here they were. The ramen was long since eaten, and eight young men were walking back down the concrete the way which they had come.

               Matsukawa and Hanamaki had their arms lazily thrown around each other’s shoulders or waist, heads occasionally bumping together as they whispered back and forth. They had decided earlier that they liked kissing each other, so sometimes when they got too close the two would steal quick ones, leaving smiles on both of their faces.

               Echoes of _Iwa-chan_ rang out through the street every time Oikawa needed attention from his now boyfriend. The taller had barely let go of Iwaizumi’s arm the whole night, and right now was no different. By some miracle, Iwaizumi didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

               Bokuto and Akaashi’s hands were intertwined, swinging lightly in the -very little- space between them. The large smile hadn’t left Bokuto’s face all afternoon, and right now, with the slowly fading sunlight reflecting off his golden eyes, Akaashi couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he was.

               Kuroo and Kenma were no different, the taller leaving his arm draped across the smaller’s shoulders to hold him close by. He had learned that Kenma didn’t talk a lot, which was okay, because Kuroo could talk enough for both of them.

               It was safe to say that all eight could agree, a little bit of heartburn had been worth it.


End file.
